


whisky drunk & far too young

by unicyclehippo



Series: Blue Girls Have The Most Fun [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:28:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21713008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unicyclehippo/pseuds/unicyclehippo
Summary: prompt request: “That’s how the story goes.”or, Nott and Beau have been drinking, and Nott realises a couple of things about her friend.
Relationships: Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett
Series: Blue Girls Have The Most Fun [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1824289
Comments: 9
Kudos: 226





	whisky drunk & far too young

'That's how the story goes.'

//

Nott throws her an intrigued look, entirely too knowing, entirely too pitying for Beau’s comfort. ‘You don’t know that.’

‘Don’t I?’ Beau has stopped drinking now but it doesn’t help much, not five whiskeys in. She’s drunk herself past warm and tipsy and right into that harsh space where she knows she’s drunk, where everything seems annoyingly in focus, like her brain is trying to trick her into drinking more. The only way she knows it’s not quite right is when she reaches for the empty cup in front of her and has to grab at it twice, her hand not quite matching up to where her eyes are fixed.

‘Are you a belligerent drunk?’ Nott asks. Beau just scowls, so she sets a long-fingered hand on her own chest, and tells her, almost cheerfully, ‘I myself am a good drunk.’

‘Ha! No, you’re not,’ Beau snorts.

‘Yes I am!’

‘No, you’re not, you’re just—just—‘ The word she's looking for drops from its place in her mind, slippery, uncooperative. Beau frowns at the bartop. Settles for, ‘Not scared.’

‘Brave,’ Nott supplies, with a too-sharp smile. ‘Exactly.’

‘That’s not _good_. You know that, right? You don’t love that about, about Caleb, do you? You don’t go around saying, _oh it’s so great he’s reckless_. We don’t want you drunk an’ brave, Nott—we want you _safe_.’

Nott—only two drinks in and hardly tipsy, though she wouldn't admit that to her companion, who had powered through her shots like she needed them—stares at Beau with no small amount of shock. It’s nothing that Jester, or Caleb hasn’t said to her at one time or another but _B_ _eau_? Beau, the rude? Beau, the uncaring? Beau, who made it a point not to care about any of them?

Except, Nott has to admit, that isn’t so true. She hadn’t paid all that much attention to the small ways in which Beau had changed along their journey—had been far more focused on keeping Caleb alive and safe and _alive_ to notice—or, okay, care—that Beau had been thawing, had been giving everyone around her small nudges toward being better versions of themselves. Held Caleb up by the shoulders when he was scared, or hurt, or felt adrift in this too-big, too-bad world. Worked hard at being Fjord’s first mate, his friend, joined him in all manner of silliness and impulse that Nott realises now was the Fjord slipping past the Vandren mask. She doesn’t know if Beau had known that at the time, or had just been encouraging some fun, but either way Nott can’t deny that it had helped the man. Beau had tried to save Molly, had given advice and time and a solid shoulder to Jester, had welcomed Yasha back despite nearly being killed by her. Had pulled Nott out of lava.

‘I think,' she says slowly, wondering over the words that are about to come out of her mouth, 'you need to give yourself more credit.'

Beau snorts, shakes her head.

More gently than Nott can remember her horrid goblin voice ever being, she says, hand on Beau’s shoulder, ‘Someone would be very lucky to have your love, Beauregard.’

It is heartbreaking to see the shock on her face. Beau is barely out of her twenties, a little younger than Veth had been, and Nott had forgotten what it was like to be young. And what it was like to be forgotten, turned away, ignored, disliked. She had at least had years with Yeza, and her own parents, her brothers sometimes. _Beau_ , Nott realises with a sinking pit in her stomach, _who had she ever had_? 

‘I’m transforming back into a halfling,’ Nott tells her. ‘Caleb is looking for a way to save himself, or his family, or the world maybe. Fjord is bonded to a great big snake, Jester is maybe the head of a cult?' She stops for a second, forcing her eyes comically wide. Beau laughs a little. 'Caduceus has a whole thing, I don’t really know what he’s about actually. None of these are stories we’ve heard of before. We’re all—making ourselves as we go.’ She scoots closer on her bar stool. Takes Beau’s face gently between her palms, hopes the girl is too drunk or too tactful to comment on the prick of claw, the clamminess of goblin skin. ‘Your story is _not_ done,’ she says, forcefully, this well of old love, of surging protectiveness, washing over her. ‘You don’t know what will happen.’

‘It’s fine,’ Beau mumbles. ‘It’s fine,’

‘It will be. I’ll make sure of that.’

Beau doesn’t shout this time, or complain. She seems to be struck by what is strange to her, the sudden unshakeable care in Nott’s eyes, something that has never been so intently directed toward her for no reason. Dairon's esteem, attention, _maybe_ came close, but Beau had had to earn that.

‘Okay,' Beau agrees. 'Don’t make it weird though.’

Nott smiles. ‘I probably will,’ she admits, and Beau sighs, laughs a little.

**Author's Note:**

> hi im unicyclehippo on tumblr as well, feel free to swing on by & say hi or send me a prompt x


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